


What's in a kiss?

by Mybrolly



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bees, Bond Air code, Complete, Fluff, Gen, Irene flirting, Jealous John, John's engagement, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock get married, Kidlock, M/M, Parent!lock, Post-Reichenbach, The Woman - Freeform, Uni years, Unilock, Wedding, fluffy fluff, from kidlock to parentlock, johnlock kiss, kiss, mentions of drug use (ch 2), mini-doctor John, reckless Sherlock, unloved Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mybrolly/pseuds/Mybrolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were seven kisses that changed Sherlock's life, this is the tale of each one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Kiss

The first kiss that changed Sherlock’s life came when he was merely five years old. The young Holmes was playing by a lake in their summer home in France, chasing the bees, attempting to catch one so that he could study it closer. They all proved elusive, Sherlock was convinced this was due to his height and loathed that his elder brother hadn’t consented to help him with his plight. 

There were other people playing, families enjoying the August sunshine, children laughing as the parents picnicked with breads and wine. Mummy and Daddy weren’t there, of course, Daddy had an important phone call from work and Mummy had insisted the nanny take Sherlock to the lake. She refused to catch bees too and called Sherlock a strange child and proceeded to engage in conversation with a local man after waving Sherlock off. The nanny had never cared for him, she was the first person to call him a freak, she adored Mycroft, he was her “good little gentleman” whereas Sherlock was an “insolent brat”. Sherlock despised her but Mummy never listened, simply told her youngest son that he must tolerate her as he would deal with many people in his lifetime that disliked him and he would be unable to escape them all. 

The nanny didn’t even bother helping when Sherlock fell and skinned his knee. She had glanced up as Sherlock had called for her but quickly scoffed and turned her attention back to the man she was flirting with. That’s when he came. A lovely boy, he had to be just two years older than Sherlock, he had dirty blonde hair, wore a rugby shirt and jeans, bright blue eyes and a plastic stethoscope around his neck. 

“It’s okay, I’m a doctor.” He spoke English, a rare treat when they were on holiday, a welcome one for the injured boy.

“You are not, you’re too young.” 

The elder boy pouted and muttered his reply, “I’m gonna be, when I’m bigger. I’m gonna help lots of people with sore knees. Wanna be my patient?”

The blonde boy’s smile warmed Sherlock and since the nanny seemed to care so little, Sherlock allowed the stranger to help. He looked Sherlock over, pretended to check his heart, shined a fake torch in his eyes and opened the little red case he had with him to produce a wipe and plaster. The boy cleaned Sherlock’s hurt knee, apologised as the younger child winced with the sting on the antiseptic wipe and placed the plaster on gently. Finally, in a show of affection that no one ever gave him, the boy kissed his knee.

“Mum says a kiss makes it all better, it always helps when I get cut.” 

Sherlock had no words, he was taken aback by the kindness of this young stranger, that someone had helped him and looked beyond the fact he was strange, weird or a freak and just saw Sherlock, the little boy who’d hurt his knee. 

“We should be friends,” The pretend doctor smiled at his idea, “My name’s Jo-” He was cut off by a call from his mother and quickly said his goodbyes. 

Sherlock came back to the lake for the next three days but never saw the boy again, he’d always remember him though, always remember that small kiss from someone who treated him as a normal human, someone who saw beyond the freak and actually cared. His first friend.


	2. The Second Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decided to make it a series for the 7 kisses. This chapter is not cute like the last, it's not Johnlock either (the rest will be though), it is simply a kiss that I think was a vital story to tell.

The second kiss that changed Sherlock’s life wasn’t his first proper kiss, that was with a girl named Rebecca when he was simply young and curious, his first with a male was a boy called Peter, a simple compare and contrast experiment that proved to him that he preferred the kiss of a male than a female. Neither kiss changed his life, nor did any others until Victor. 

Victor was a handsome man and one of the few in the university that Sherlock decreed to have any intelligence worth exploring. He had a certain appeal about him, a draw that pulled Sherlock closer. Victor tended to be avoided by most on campus but not for the same reasons they avoided Sherlock. The youngest Holmes was a freak by their standards; people chose not to interact once they had heard the rumours. Victor on the other hand, he was bad blood, always getting into trouble and fights, never going long without a split lip, black eye or bruised knuckles. He rebelled and this appealed to Sherlock, he wanted to be part of a world with that excitement, playing by the rules was boring and Victor Trevor never played by the rules. 

Victor clearly saw something in Sherlock, looking back the detective now knows his naivety played a large part in that attraction but at the time the young man refused to think of himself in that way. Victor saw a weakness and chose to exploit it, Sherlock saw danger and was drawn to it like a magnet. 

They spent the first two months spending their time between drinking, avoiding classes and getting into fights when they finally left the bedroom. The attraction between them was animalistic and Sherlock was introduced to a world of sex and pleasure that could control the mass of noise in his brain for a brief moment. Victor claimed he could help more, he could give Sherlock a way to calm the thoughts for longer than the fleeting post-coital minutes. Foolishly Sherlock trusted him. 

The kiss came in some run down club, music pumping, people dancing and perspiring in the heat , it was still not a scene Sherlock had been found of but it seemed right with Victor. When his boyfriend pressed up against him, Sherlock took no notice of it, Victor had never cared about public appearance or who knew they were an item, he usually just told Sherlock to remain quiet and showed him off as a pretty face. The older man whispered in Sherlock’s ear that he was going to stop the blur of his mind and then kissed him.

It was a beautiful yet rough kiss full of heated passion and as their tongues twisted Victor passed a small pill from his tongue to Sherlock’s. “Swallow it.” He ordered softly in Sherlock’s ear and made promises of how much of a release it would be. Ecstasy, had he known just what would happen to him in the years to follow then he’d have refused and walked away from the mess of his life but one look in Victor’s beautiful green eyes and Sherlock swallowed the pill, his first taste of an illegal drug. 

It had been everything he was promised, the room spun but his mind didn’t, for once there was only the music, only the dancing, everything else slowed and became a white noise in a sea of pleasure. When the effects began to wear off Victor gave him another and once more his mind was stilled. Soon the ecstasy pills became more of a regular occurrence, he would take them more often than he did meals and quickly they became ineffective, his mind broke through the haze. He needed more, stronger, something with effects that lasted longer, Sherlock craved them and Victor was more than happy to supply. 

One kiss, one pill, one lifelong addiction.


	3. The Third Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the Johnlock with the kiss from Irene.

The third kiss that changed Sherlock’s life was a kiss that told him the one thing he’d failed to deduce and one of the most important things he would ever find out. 

There weren’t many kisses between the end of the drug days and now. Sherlock focused everything he could on his work and maintaining his promise to his brother and Detective Inspector Lestrade that he would stay clean in order to work with New Scotland Yard on their tougher, more interesting cases and a few with the government as and when needed. It wasn’t an easy promise to keep and there were many times he slipped but he never let himself fall back into addiction, as tempting as it was. The drugs had numbed his mind, cases helped but they paled in comparison, the puzzle only provided a distraction for so long before it was back to thinking and frustration. 

Meeting John Watson forced Sherlock to renew his fight against addiction. Lestrade arranged a drugs bust to rile him and the look of disappointment on his flatmates face when he found out about Sherlock’s drug addled past was enough to set the fire of recovery in full force. There was something about John, something that made Sherlock want to stay high in his estimations, a rare place for him to ever be with anyone. Sherlock wanted John to like him, to never look at him in that way again. 

It didn’t seem unnatural to him when he began falling for John, the man was rather perfect after all. it was, however, terrifying. After a rather abusive relationship with Victor and avoiding all forms of intimacy since, Sherlock had decided never to fall in love again, never to let anyone that deep inside his head or heart. He trained himself to believe love is a dangerous disadvantage, falling for John couldn’t be wise. It just turned out to be extremely hard not to be drawn in by the remarkable, intelligent, kind hearted and brave man.

It was way John looked at him after the third kiss that changed his life. 

Irene Adler, the Woman. She had certainly got under Sherlock’s skin but not in a sexual way. He couldn’t quite figure her out or what her end goal was. She set puzzles that proved almost impossible to solve and made herself of great interest to the younger Holmes. Irene handed him the puzzle and challenged him with her words, “Go on, impress a girl.” What man could resist that? It wasn’t truly Irene he wished to impress though. It was John. He’d always been so impressed with each deduction, each riddle solved, but lately there was more eye rolling than praise, he’d become used to it all and seemed no longer fascinated by Sherlock’s skills, this was a chance to wow him again. 

Sherlock scanned the screen of Irene’s phone, quickly recognising the patterns within the code that was pictured. That’s when she kissed him. A simple kiss, just at his cheekbone near his ear, brief but in Irene’s head it was no doubt sultry. Barely eight seconds and Sherlock gave his deductions, eyes going straight to John rather than Irene, his reaction is the one that counted. Amazement covered his face, the desired result, but his eyes held something more, the kiss, the kiss from The Woman had sparked jealousy in John. 

It had to be jealousy, what else would cause that darkness? Sherlock pushed it, decided to tease and test. “Don’t feel obliged to tell me that was remarkable or amazing, John’s expressed that thought in every possible variant available to the English language.” Irene was simply meant to utter some word of praise but her reply helped proved to test Sherlock’s theory. “I would have you right here on this desk until you begged for mercy twice.” The increased volume of breathing from John, followed by his reaction when asked to confirm the deductions, told the detective all he needed to know. John Watson truly _was_ jealous, therefore somewhere in that heterosexual shell, John had feelings for him. 

One kiss told so much and it wasn’t even one from John’s lips. The kiss held so much promise, so much wonder and hope for a possible future. Now the trick was to get John to admit his feelings, knowledge of how to do that was beyond even Sherlock’s skills.


	4. The Fourth Kiss

The fourth kiss that changed Sherlock’s life was arguably the most important. The first kiss with the man he loved, with John. 

 

Dying hadn’t been easy, not by any means, leaving everyone behind was for the best, it was the only way to save them. Mrs Hudson was a mother figure to him, she was always there, always cared, she showed Sherlock so much more love than his mother ever had, she was special and dying to protect her was an easy choice. Lestrade was more of an elder brother than Mycroft, he had been there through some of the worst times and rather than force and order like Mycroft did, Lestrade was simply there, helped, bargained and let Sherlock work on the crime scenes if he stayed clean. Lestrade risked his job by letting Sherlock have access to all the information, he was bound to lose it with this stunt by Moriarty. Lestrade was a friend. Sherlock hadn’t admitted it before that moment but the DI had become more than access to cases and a man he could look up to, Lestrade had become a friend and dying for him was another obvious decision. 

 

John on the other hand had been a lot harder. Sherlock would die for him in a heartbeat, he would throw himself in front of any bullet for his best friend, the man he loved, yet when it came to doing just that it was so much harder than he’d thought. It wasn’t just dying to protect John, there was the leaving John and that was the difficult part. The friendship had grown, there were lingering looks, touches that needn’t have been there, there was a relationship forming and it was all being ripped away. A life without John in order to keep him alive, a life without seeing him every day and letting him love some mundane woman, a life knowing he was happy without him, it was the only option, the only life he was going to be able to live. Moriarty had done brilliantly, Sherlock’s heart burnt with the pain of saying goodbye, having to hurt John and live a life without him. 

 

Coming back had been just as hard. John had grieved and moved on, come to terms with the death and started a new life without Sherlock. Everyone had. Nothing stopped while he was gone, no one waited for him to come back, everyone accepted the death and continued with life. It was hard to see John so happy without him, even if it was lovely to see that smile again. 

 

Three years, numerous scars and a lot of blood split, all to ensure John lived a life of safety. Many idiotic members of the wicked spider’s web and various criminal gangs were convinced John was left with the non-existent computer key, Sherlock was never going to let them get to John. Three years, almost to the day, three years and he was able to come home. The question was if anyone actually wanted him home. 

 

John had to be first to know, it was only right, although John was bound to take it the worst. There was no easy way to do it, no “Surprise, I’m alive, let’s all laugh about the fake death”, it was going to hurt them both no matter how he did it. A public meeting saved John killing him, helped to prove he was real too but it wasn’t fair on John to have to hide his reaction. Privately was dangerous but it was what he deserved. Sherlock spent time planting the seed in John’s head, make it less of a shock when he found out the truth. Slight glimpses in public of the ghost of his friend, soft violin music filtered into his dreams, subtle movements of the skull John had kept in pride of place, reminders of Sherlock removed from their hiding places and set in John’s line of sight, there was never anything too obvious but John’s mind wouldn’t be that rusty, he would pick up on most. Finally, when he felt he had done all he could, Sherlock revealed himself. 

 

Sitting in his old chair, looking at how little had changed in the flat as he waited, glad of his brother for continuing his financial support and enabling John to keep 221B for all this time, Sherlock waited. When John arrived home he instantly caught sight of the coat and scarf hanging and stepped into the living room to find Sherlock sitting, alive. 

 

There had been a lot of shouting from John, hurt and anger controlling his emotions, he even punched Sherlock and split his lip. The blood and pain barely registered to Sherlock, he focused purely on the fact that he was in the same room as John again, even if the man told him to leave and never come back. John wouldn’t of course, he wanted to but he couldn’t let Sherlock leave again when he’d only got him back. 

 

When he’d calmed slightly, the doctor retrieved the first aid kit and set about cleaning up the mess he’d made, not once apologising, he couldn’t say sorry when he felt it was so deserved. Sherlock locked eyes with him and John leant his forehead against the dead man’s, listening to his breathing, feeling his pulse, assuring he was actually alive. When he lifted his hand to apply a paper stitch to Sherlock’s lip, he paused. 

 

“I missed you.” He said simply before pressing his lips to Sherlock’s. The kiss was slow, tender and delicate, it lasted for what seemed like forever yet it still wasn’t long enough. There was little pressure but emotion flowed through the lips of both men, hurt, pain, sadness, lost and most importantly - love. 

 

When their lips parted Sherlock instantly wanted more but as he leaned closer John pulled away.

 

“I loved you and you left, you died. I loved you and I watched you jump, I buried you.” John sniffed back the tears.

 

“But I’m back and I’m yours. I love you, John. I didn’t think I’d ever love but I love you more than you will ever know. We can be together now. Forever, if you’ll have me.”

 

John stood and stepped away, fussing with the first aid kit, clearing the mess and locking it up again, fighting against the only words he could say until they finally escaped in barely a whisper, “I’m engaged.”

 

Sherlock’s heart shattered, he had only just repaired it from three years without John and now it was in a million pieces in his chest. He had John back but he didn’t have him to   
himself. The kiss had seemed so perfect, had been hope of so much, until reality destroyed it all.


	5. The Fifth Kiss

The fifth kiss that changed Sherlock’s life was one that he had never thought would come, one that he longed for but never felt he deserved. 

It’d been over a month since his return and Sherlock and John had settled back in to a new routine. Sherlock started solving cases again and John helped out when not working in the clinic or on dates with his fiancé. The doctor had made it clear that he was sticking by his engagement, planned to marry Mary and leave Baker Street to live with her. It destroyed Sherlock but he understood, in the end he had never expected John to choose him, there was nothing about him that seemed worthy of winning the love of John Watson. 

The two continued life ignoring their feelings, something John seemed better at than Sherlock. There were lingering looks again and Sherlock found himself craving the touch of John’s skin so much so that he let his fingers glide over the man’s hand when he handed him something. Sherlock kept it all as subtle as possible but longing won on occasion, he couldn’t just forget how much he loved John. 

Sherlock stayed well away from Mary, the woman only served as a painful reminder of what he couldn’t have. John seemed very much in love and everyone fussed about his engagement and questioned his wedding plans. It seemed cruel when he asked Sherlock to be his best man but he stated how much he wanted his best friend beside him as his life changed so dramatically. John was rather adamant about it all and Sherlock found he couldn’t refuse, no matter how much he desperately wanted to. The idea of John getting married was heart-breaking for him and standing at his side, handing over the rings and making a speech about the happy couple was not something he wanted to do. But this was John, saying no to something he desperately wanted would have hurt Sherlock more. 

That night John was out for dinner with Mary and Sherlock was left home alone to dwell on the fact that it should’ve been him opposite John, enjoying dinner or a film, or whatever it was that couples did. After a while Sherlock gave up on his attempts to distract himself with experiments and cold case files and went to bed, knowing full well that sleep would elude him. 

It was around midnight when he heard John creep in, rather surprisingly as Sherlock had assumed he would be staying with his wife to be, making love to her and holding her in bed, images Sherlock tried to delete from his head each time he had them. He listened as he heard John wander upstairs, the noises indicated he was getting changed and then the stairs creaked again as he came back down. Sherlock supposed John was going to have a cup of tea, fiddle with the laptop and perhaps read before finally making his way to bed, no doubt too hyped after his date to sleep. There was surprise when his bedroom door opened. 

Sherlock lay still, pretending to be asleep, pathetic attempts to avoid a loved up John talking about his perfect night with the perfect woman. John didn’t seem to react to his feigned sleep, instead he walked into the room, lifted the covers and climbed into bed beside Sherlock. 

“I know you’re awake.” John whispered as he slid an arm around Sherlock’s waist. 

Slowly Sherlock opened his eyes and turned to face John. “I believe your room is upstairs.” His voice attempting to stay trite and lack the curiosity he truly felt. 

John sighed and seemed to think of his words before finally speaking again, his face barely lit by the light of the moon through the window. “Sherlock… I…I ended it, it’s over, Mary and me, I couldn’t do it anymore, it seemed like such a lie, it’s you, it’s always been you, I love you and if you’ll have me I want to be with you. She got very upset, so did I, I did care for her, I loved her too, I think, I was certain of it before you came back anyway. These last few weeks have just been so hard. Having you back just reminded me what real love feels like and I love you. I love you Sherlock and I can’t marry someone else when I’m in love with you.” His words seemed to flow out without a breath, as if he were afraid to stop speaking in case he realised what a mistake he’d made. 

Sherlock shifted a bit in order to lean up on his elbow and look at John, eyes scanning what little he could see of the doctor’s features, half convinced it was a dream or some trick of his mind. “I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand? I can’t be with someone else, I’m crazy about you, you idiot.”

Sherlock smiled weakly but confusion had control of his features. “She’s better for you, she’ll make you happy and give you the life you dreamed of, the simple life with a family, children even. I can’t give you that, John. I can’t give you much, she made you happy, all I ever seem to do is irritate you.”

John couldn’t help but chuckle, “Yeah, you do. You drive me bloody nuts at times but I love you for it. I made my decision, I didn’t do it lightly, I know your good points and your bad, I know you and I know what this is, you don’t think you deserve love but you do. You deserve to be happy and I want a chance to be the one to make you happy. Stop thinking so little of yourself and just once look at yourself through my eyes. You’re bloody amazing…and I love you.”

“You…” There was no arguing with John at that moment and Sherlock cursed how well the man knew him and how his mind worked. “I love you too.”

The smile on John’s face could’ve lit the room better than the moon. He leaned over and placed his lips to Sherlock’s softly until the detective responded and the kiss deepened. The men wrapped their arms around each other and entwined their legs. Their tongues tasted the other’s lips and eventually went further, gaining entrance and dancing with the others. Little happy moans escaped and both seemed to melt in the other’s arms. 

John finally broke the kiss to whisper against Sherlock’s lips, “You and me, official couple, what do ya think?”

There was no need for words as a response and Sherlock captured John’s lips again, his kiss saying everything he needed to, confirming them as a couple.


	6. The Sixth Kiss

The sixth kiss that changed Sherlock’s life was the one that sealed his future and his love, a kiss that made him a husband. 

When John proposed it had been a shock. There was no previous talk of marriage, family or future, the men simply enjoyed the relationship they had and being with one another. Everything had been perfect. There were a few teething problems in moving from friends to partners but once things settled it was as if they were created for each other. 

John fussed too much over the danger of cases and experiments, Sherlock hid his worry about John’s bravery getting him into trouble, the two bickered over household chores (which John ended up doing each time) and Sherlock proved he could be intimate with plenty of cuddling, kissing and sly looks of love. The words didn’t come out much, they both knew they loved each other but Sherlock preferred to tell John he was an idiot and John chose a variety of words such as “git” and “sod”. No matter what way it was said, both men knew the undercurrent of the phrases was an admittance of love, they just had to show it in their own unique ways. 

It was any other day in 221B when John asked Sherlock to marry him. Nothing special, no anniversary, no pretence, no buildup, nothing. Clearly John had thought about it, he knew the man he loved and knew he wouldn’t appreciate big public displays or romantic gestures. That kind of thing just wasn’t Sherlock. With the consulting detective love was subtle and John had grown to adore that about him, nothing ever seemed forced because it was never a show for the public, each look of love was real and a shared moment purely between them. 

Another case solved, another brilliant display by Sherlock and another criminal behind bars. They lay on the sofa, in each other’s arms as adrenaline faded. John offered to make tea and returned with a tray of two cups, biscuits and a small black box. He was traditional, down on one knee as he told Sherlock how he couldn’t be without him, how he wanted to spend their lives together and how much he loved the pain in the arse. When he opened the box it contained his dog tags, his most valued possession and the gesture overwhelmed Sherlock. He protested, refusing to take something so precious to John but the former soldier explained how they had always been close to his heart and now his heart belonged to Sherlock, he wanted the tags close to Sherlock’s heart and wanted to show they belonged to each other. 

“I’ve never gone anywhere without them, it means I’ll always be there beside you, I won’t be far away from them or you. Marry me? I bloody love you more than I ever thought possible, I want to be your husband.”

Words failed the usually articulate man but one found its way out through the stunned lips. “Yes” he whispered and John fastened the dog tags around his fiancé’s neck.

Now here they stood on their wedding day, committing themselves to each other for life. John looked unbelievably handsome in his grey suit and a tear broke free as he said his vows. It was a simple ceremony, just the two of them and a handful of guests in Regent’s park. They had walked through it many, many times and now here they were, by the boating lake, vowing their lives to each other. 

Writing their own vows had seemed mad at first but as John choked his out, Sherlock suddenly understood why he’d asked for it. It was much more personal and John included things such as vowing to tolerate the body parts in the fridge, the lack of domestic skills and the fact that he would never be able to watch a film again without the plot being ruined by the deductions. Sherlock disregarded his written vows, they were merely words he had pulled together from various websites, they didn’t seem right now. He spoke from the heart and vowed to spend his life making John feel as loved as he did, making him happy and never bored. Sherlock vowed to always help John get things from the top shelf and to keep him safe when the nightmares came. Most importantly he vowed to attempt to be more human for John, to open up more and stop reverting into himself, to confide in John rather than stick to his own head. 

When the vows were made and the “I will’s” said, Sherlock finally got to kiss John for the first time as his husband. He loathed these public displays of affection but this was his wedding day, a day that would only occur once, he could let himself kiss John and show his love in front of their family and friends. The kiss was brief but tender, loving and filled with promise. Husbands, Doctor and Mr Watson-Holmes (there had been many debates on the names, John had almost caved but the compromise seemed to satisfy them both in the end).

Sherlock had never thought he would marry, he was certain that no one had thought he would. His mother nagged Mycroft constantly about marriage and grandchildren, she had never once mentioned anything about Sherlock doing the same. It seemed it was assumed that Sherlock wouldn’t find love, that he would spend his days alone with his mind and for a very long time that suited him just fine. John Watson had changed everything. John had shown him he had a heart, that he could love and be loved and that his future was spend being someone’s husband. 

A ring on his finger and a kiss to seal the vows, he was John’s and John was his. Forever.


	7. The Seventh Kiss

The seventh kiss that changed Sherlock’s life was the smallest kiss that marked the biggest change. 

 

Being married to John had made Sherlock’s life complete, everything had fallen into place. Cases were providing stimulation for the mind, John was nurturing and caring as always and the routine they had somehow fallen into was far from boring. Domestic bliss was how Sherlock chose to describe it. Until John asked for more. 

 

It shouldn’t have surprised him, John had always wanted to be a father. Sherlock however had not. While his husband made every argument for a child, Sherlock retaliated with each negative one. His fear was the main motivator for the unwavering doubt about children. Would he be a good father? Would he turn into his own? Would it cause the end of his marriage once John saw how he couldn’t care for a child properly? 

 

In many respects, Sherlock considered himself a child. John cared for him, did the cooking and cleaning, protected him and, loathed as he was to admit it, he threw the odd temper tantrum. An actual child mixed with that would surely be a recipe for disaster. Not to mention the fact that the case load would need to be reduced in order to care for an infant, firearms and weapons would be removed from the flat and there was no hope of having any of his chemistry equipment about if there was a child who could no doubt spill acid or destroy an experiment. 

 

John worked out each fear, showed Sherlock the positives of a child, of passing on his knowledge and wisdom, teaching a child to deduce and even the joys of playing games and dressing up as pirates to have sword fights with his son or daughter. 

 

When Sherlock finally said yes, it was under one main condition – His DNA was not to be used. He refused to bring another biological Holmes into the world, refused to let a child have the burden of the overactive brain and troubled childhood that came with it. If he was going to have a child then they would be a mini-John, loveable, caring and kind-hearted rather than a friendless freak. 

 

If he was being honest with himself then Sherlock would admit that he thought the idea might disappear once they began the long and arduous search for surrogates and egg donors. The idea floated around to ask someone they knew, Sherlock wanted Irene Adler, The Woman, she owed him a rather large favour and had the intelligence and physical appearance that would work well for a child. John quickly shot that idea down, it seemed he had never quite gotten over his jealousy. In the end it was decided that knowing the egg donor wasn’t a smart move and an anonymous source was found. 

 

The more he thought about a small version of John running around the flat, the more Sherlock began loving the idea. By the time the surrogate was reaching her due date, Sherlock was bursting with excitement for his child to be born. He never thought he’d want it so much but many late night talks with John about the future was simply inspiring. 

 

“I want to take them to this place I went as a kid, absolutely beautiful, be a nice holiday for us when they’re a bit older.” John smiled and locked his fingers with his husbands as they lay in bed, in each other’s arms, faces lit by the moonlight and too anxious about the upcoming birth to sleep.

 

“Hmm? Where?” 

 

“A little place in the South of France, have to go digging for the name of it, Harry might know better than me, I was only seven but it was lovely. The last family holiday before dad died, has good memories, I’d like to give our little one some too.”

 

Sherlock smiled into the darkness, “I made my first friend in the South of France. A long time ago but he was the first person who cared…” Sherlock’s voice trailed off at the memory but his husband encouraged him to share. “I was trying to catch a bee in order to study it closer. I fell and cut my knee, five years old and my injury didn’t mean a thing to the nanny charged with my care. Then he came with his smile, plasters and kindness. I had never experienced anything like it before, Mycroft was the closest I had to a friend and he rarely bothered with me. I think the boy would’ve been a friend but he was called away and didn’t return. It’s still the best memory I have from that summer.”

 

John shifted slightly, finding it all too similar. “What was his name?”

 

“He was called by his mother before I ever got a chance to find out. I returned to the lake but he never came back.”

 

“The lake” John muttered. “Did he…” It seemed silly to ask, “…he didn’t…kiss it better, did he?”

 

“He did. His mother told him…” Sherlock sat up on his elbow and faced what he could see of John in the dim light as realisation hit, “You?”

 

“Little kid with big eyes and black curls chasing bees. I watched you for ages before you fell. I wanted to play but thought you’d say no.”

 

“You never came back.”

 

“Dad…he got sick, we left early and came home to get him to hospital.”

 

“All this time and it was -” Sherlock was cut off by John’s phone ringing. It was after 2am, there was only one person it could be, the surrogate. Sherlock jumped out of bed in a mild panic and began dressing, John finished talking and attempted to calm Sherlock despite his own excited panic. The surrogate was in labour, their child was coming. 

 

The labour lasted nearly seven hours, Sherlock’s patience didn’t stretch quite that far. Several nurses refused to come back after the expectant father’s impatient deductions about their personal life, an argument occurred between the husbands when Sherlock bought cigarettes from the hospital shop, but all calmed once the midwife threatened to have him removed and miss the birth of his child. Sherlock refused to miss this. 

 

At 8:17am a beautiful, healthy baby boy was delivered. Eight pounds, two ounces of Watson-Holmes. 

 

John got first hold. His smile stretched practically ear to ear, he cried unashamedly and doted on his newborn son. When Sherlock finally got to hold him all the fear broke out again, all he wanted for this child was a good and happy life. As John helped him support his son’s head, Sherlock knew that the boy would have just that, even if he couldn’t give it to him, John would. His husband was the most amazing man and had been all his life. With John as his father and his genetics, this boy would be just as wonderful. 

 

Sherlock sniffed back a tear as he looked down on the tiny little baby in his arms, terrified of holding him too hard or hurting him in any way. He made a silent promise to the boy, a promise to protect him, to love him and that he may not always get it right but he would always try his best. 

 

A soft kiss to his son’s forehead sealed his words. Sherlock Watson-Holmes was a father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it, seven kisses that changed Sherlock's life. I hope you enjoyed reading it, I certainly enjoyed writing it. Thank you for sticking with me through them all.


End file.
